


Holding Out for a Hero

by Emulator42



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Ambassador Spock, Prompt Fic, idk what ST era to put this in
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 01:28:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3190694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emulator42/pseuds/Emulator42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based on the song Holding Out for a Hero by Bonnie Tyler. Spock, serving as the Vulcan Federation Ambassador, narrowly escapes becoming a victim of an interplanetary incident. Soon after the crime is committed, it becomes apparent that Spock is the best person to come to the rescue. (For Tumblr user vulcanhabitat)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding Out for a Hero

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm doing this thing to kick off my attempt to become a Star Trek fic writer where people send me a song plus a character or ship and I write a fic. Feel free to message me if you have any ideas, and add as much information as you'd like, i.e. fic type, time period, triggers to avoid, etc.

The Tellarite on the other end of the conference table had been spitting out vicious arguments since the minute Spock had walked in. It was now about three hours into the meeting, and the Tellarite’s deep skin had achieved a magnificent splotchy purple color as he wheezed out further complaints. Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Spock turned to look up at a Tellarite maid holding out a tray of brightly colored drinks. She attempted a seductive grin. Her deep eye sockets seemed almost hollow, only a glimmer of light suggested there might be eyes beneath the folds of skin. That, combined with her Tellarian snout made her face startlingly similar to that of a Terran Fruit bat Spock remembered encountering long ago.

“Refreshments, Ambassador?” She drawled with a saccharine sweetness. Spock took one to avoid offense. The maid had obviously been around other species often enough to imitate their behavior, but deep down she _was_ Tellarite, and Spock didn’t need two angry fruit bats on his hands.

The meeting wasn’t a typical event for a Federation Ambassador. This was an internal affair. Mok, the Tellarite on the other side of the room, was a popular Tellarite lawyer and politician. His Nephew, Ter, had been ratted out to Orion authorities to be smuggling unregulated slave girls to other M-class planets. Usually such a tip would be ignored, but it was followed with the added information that he had aided in the escape of a mysterious Orion political prisoner. Spock sipped on the cool purple liquid as Mok continued his rant.

“These accusations are ridiculous!” He spat. “There was no illegal cargo in Ter’s ship. The Orions cannot continue to detain him. Now, if they would actually reveal what evidence they have of the prisoner having been there, or perhaps _who_ the prisoner even is – “

“That is not a possibility.” The Orion Ambassador interrupted from Spock’s left. “The prisoner is a personal enemy to the Orion’s only, and no one of importance to you.” He had said nearly the same thing about five times in the past three hours. “The prisoner and their crimes are a confidential matter for our planet only.”

“Then how do you think Ter could have even learned of this prisoner?” Mok gestured wildly, almost hitting a drink off the tray of the passing maid. She stepped back quickly, ducking her head away from Mok as she placed a drink in front of the Andorian Ambassador.

“The Orion population is widespread across many M-class planets.” The Orion Ambassador explained. He paused to nod thanks to the maid as a drink was placed in front of him. “We do not pretend that all of our number are loyal to their home planet.”

“You mean the slaves, of course.” Shrishaa sh’Anis, the Andorian Ambassador spoke matter-of-factly. She was an old friend of Spock’s, and shared his distaste of the general Orion practice of selling their women. Shrishaa continued in the silence of the Orion, “The women you have sold into unwilling slavery.”

“Yes.” He finally answered. Spock raised an eyebrow in the direction of Ambassador sh’Anis. It was uncharacteristic of her to speak out like this when it was inappropriate to do so. Speaking of uncharacteristic, the polite Tellarite maid had retreated to the corner of the room, having passed out all of her refreshments. Spock took a contemplative sip of the drink again, wondering if he should weigh in.

“The Federation has been accepting toward Orion practices.” He finally spoke. “We have allowed the loose government, the slave trade, the refusal to join the Federation, even the pheromone control of dubious morality. We have allowed interactions and trade with your species, despite your contemptuous attitudes. I believe Mok is right. We should not be repaid in suspicion and secrecy. If you wish to practice arrests and detainment outside of your own people, the Federation will have to be informed.” He wished he could address the Orion personally, that he could appeal to his sense of fairness, but the stony look in the green man’s eyes was all the response Spock needed. Ambassador sh’Anis hiccupped loudly, and Spock realized they had all made a grave mistake.

He stood up suddenly, his chair skidding back with a loud screech. The council of fifteen all turned to stare at him, The Orion maintaining his glare.

“Who are you?” Spock demanded, locking his gaze with the man. “You are not an Ambassador. The Orion’s don’t _have_ Ambassadors. You are on a Tellarite ship. You are surrounded by people of high importance, none of which are your friends. If I were you, I would choose my words very carefully.”

“Ambassador Spock!” The Caitian Ambassador scolded. “What are you implying? This is a diplomatic meeting –“

“A diplomatic meeting, C’ran? I think not.” Spock felt his heart hammering against his side. “I’m afraid this is something very different. In fact, I believe we are all about to be kidnapped.”

“Kidnapped?!” The Kasheeta Ambassador shrieked.

“Indeed. I apologize for not realizing it earlier.” Spock raised his voice as the council began an excited murmur. Mok jumped suddenly as the screen imbedded in his end of the conference table lit up.

“We’re being boarded!” He cried.

“Don’t worry, it’s too late to run.” Spock said calmly. “This has been well planned. That woman,” Spock pointed to the most-likely-not-Tellarite maid, “Has been serving us drugged beverages. I should have questioned the fact that we all have different drinks, tailored of course to conceal various poisons. I’m fairly certain she is neither Tellarite nor one of this ship’s crew. If you remember the organization of this meeting, all Orion contact was with this man,” He gestured to the Orion who was staring back challengingly. “His planet has no known government system and _certainly_ no Ambassador.” He turned to address the Orion directly. “I hope you are acting without the aid of your planet, or else you may have triggered an intergalactic war. In this room there are fourteen represented populations who have all become your enemies.”

“Ambassador Spock, I applaud you.” The Orion hissed, definitely not applauding. “But I’m afraid your discovery has come too late to help any of you.” The Orion waved to the Tellarite guards, who immediately began closing in on the council. Ambassadors began panicking in earnest, tripping over each other to reach the opposite door that was surely locked. Mok was frantically typing on his screen, most likely trying to unlock it.

“That,” Spock spoke calmly as he felt the approach of the guards, “is a safe assumption. Unfortunately, you are incorrect.” He whirled around, landing a well-placed pinch between the neck and shoulder of two guards, who screeched and fell to the floor. Spock dodged the punch of one guard, employing an academy fighting move as he barreled into his stomach, flipping the short creature over his shoulder and onto the floor. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a guard draw a weapon. Many people were under the impression that it was too great of a risk for Ambassadors to carry concealed weapons on diplomatic missions. Nevertheless, Spock pulled out two Type 1 phasers he had clipped to the inside of his boots, and disarmed the guards with one shot each. These particular phasers had been given to him after his first political incident by James Kirk. They were illogically plated with solid gold, which did nothing to enhance their effectiveness or concealability, and had an ornamental “S” engraved on the trigger. Spock had pointed out that the soft metal would inevitably wear away quickly, to which Jim had replied, “I thought you said you wouldn’t even use them.” With a clever grin.

The Orion finally stood, grabbing Spock’s discarded chair and charging at the Ambassador. Spock picked up a chair closest to him, raising it as if to meet the Orion’s blow, before quickly lowering it as he sidestepped the charge, tripping the large man with one of the legs. Spock fired a shot in the Orion’s direction as he slipped out of the door the guards had come in. He ducked quickly into a shadowy corner as reinforcements thundered past. Some of them were Tellarite guards, most likely paid off to assist the kidnapping, but some were of various other species as well. Spock ran quickly through the hall after they passed, locating the docking bay with ease as he had memorized the route on his way to the conference room. As he opened the doors to the small pod, he felt a wave of dizziness hit. So the drugs had finally begun to kick in. They had most likely used a type that was for either Vulcan or Human physiology, rather than a mix of the two. Despite the fact that his pod was spinning around him, Spock managed to steer it toward the tightly shut bay doors. He prayed they were the kind that opened after sensing a pod’s approach, a feature not uncommon on personal ships. The last thing he remembered was the bay doors sliding open and a horrible screech as the pod forced its way through the small gap. Spock slid to the floor, reaching up to push the warp drive lever before his world faded to black.


End file.
